


Into the Dark

by BaskingShark



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Demon Grantaire, Demon possession, Established Relationship, Grantaire is possessed, Hunter Enjolras, M/M, No mention of any supernatural characters, Rating May Change, Sort of a Happy Ending?, Supernatural Elements, aside a few demon, hunter les Amis, lots and lots of angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-11
Updated: 2014-01-04
Packaged: 2017-12-31 15:09:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1033139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BaskingShark/pseuds/BaskingShark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Les Amis are hunters, some of the best in fact. Grantaire goes out on a hunt by himself, but when he comes back something there is different about him, something which risks the life of all of his friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for this chapter being so short, it's just the prologue. Not set at a specific time during supernatural, sometime before season 4; basically the 66 seals haven't been broken, and Lucifer hasn't been released. Please comment and tell me what you think.

  
"Vade, Satana, inventor et magister  
 _omnis fallaciae, hostis humanae salutis._  
 _Humiliare sub potenti manu dei,_  
 _contremisce et effuge, invocato a_  
 _nobis sancto et terribili nomine,_  
 _quem inferi tremunt."_

"You'll pay for this," the girl snarled her entire body writhing like an angered snake, black eyes glaring at her captors "I'll drag you to Hell!"

"Is that supposed to scare us?" Courfeyrac sneered leaning against one of the opposite walls, one of the few demon knives they possessed gripped tightly in his hand. The tip of the blade was stained red, responsible for the long gash in the demon's shoulder.

_"Ab insidiis diaboli, libera nos, Domine._  
Ut Ecclesiam tuam secura tibi facias libertate servire  
te rogamus, audi nos.  
Ut inimicos sanctae Ecclesiae humiliare digneris,  
te rogamus, audi nos."

"You and your little friends are making quite the stir downstairs," she huffed, desperately attempting to keep breathing as the thin tendrils of black cloud started to curl from her mouth "You'd better watch your backs," she coughed around the smoke "'Cause your as good as dead,"

Enjolras stepped forward, his blue eyes narrowed "Send this bitch straight back to Hell," he commanded Combeferre, who'd stopped mid-sentence to hear the demons threat. The black eyes turned to him, and he quickly continued in Latin.

 

_"Terribilis Deus de sanctuario suo._  
Deus Israhel ipse truderit virtutem  
et fortitudinem plebi Suae.  
Benedictus deus. Gloria patri."

As Combeferre finished the exorcism, the girl lurched forward, black eyes stretching wide with terror. Black smoke gushed from her mouth, smothering her as she squirmed in the chain she was tied to. She twitched feverishly, choking and guttering until she finally slumped forward in the seat. The dark cloud sank to the floor, momentarily hiding the devil's trap from view, before dissolving with a single drawn out hiss.

"Another one to add to the list," Courfeyrac said cheerfully, pushing himself off the walk, clicking his neck as he stood up straight.

"It's nothing to celebrate," Combeferre replied seriously, leaning forward examining the motionless girl in the chair, his hand moving swiftly to her neck to check for a pulse "She's dead,"

"I know," Courfeyrac said sounding a little less cheerful "But we save more than we kill, and there was nothing we could do for this one," he continued, resting a hand comfortingly on Combeferre's shoulder. Out of the three of them Combeferre had been hunting for the least amount of time, not that he was inexperienced, because most of the time he did a better job than both Enjolras and Courfeyrac. But if they would accidentally kill someone during a hunt it would effect Combeferre, whereas the other two had simply become indifferent to it after years of hunting.

"But, even so, she was still a human being," Combeferre added quietly, straightening up, and glancing sadly down at the blonde girl, she couldn't have been older that 23. Who knew how long the demon had been inside her, tormenting her, and turning her life into a living Hell.

Courfeyrac picked up on his friends thoughts "Well, I'm going to bury her properly," he muttered. Once he got Combeferre's approval, he leant forward and cut the ropes at her wrists. Before carefully lifting her up, ignoring the blood soaking into his t-shirt, and shouldered his way out the door.

The building they were in was some kind of old farm house, the three of them had tracked the demon all the way to Southern Texas, before finally dragging away from the small towns dotted around, and killing it.

As the door banged shut, the two others started to gather up there belongings, packing them into their bags ready for their next hunt.

"We do need to get better though," Combeferre added when the two of them were alone "We've been killing more of them recently,"

Enjolras stood up, sighing, pressing his palm to his forehead, willing his headache to let him think for a second. "I know, we just need to be a bit more careful than we have been, that's all,"

Combeferre nodded silently in response, starting to wipe away the devil's trap on the floor. The other man scrunched his eyes closed in exhaustion, before blinking them open again and snatching up the bags. Enjolras pushed the door open, treading over the uneven ground, his eyes adjusting to the sudden darkness, he could just make out the silhouette of Courfeyrac wrenching the shovel out of the ground, a fairly large hole already at his feet.

The blond opened the car, with some difficulty. He tossed the smaller bag continuing most of the guns into the back seat, groaning at the mess. Courfeyrac was the usual inhabitant of the back, and he made sure that he'd claimed it as his own; there were empty cans and fast food packages, as well as an abundance of crumbs. Enjolras made a silent pledge to make Courfeyrac clean it up the moment they returned home. Moving round to the back of the car, he flipped open the trunk, the white devil trap painted on the roof popping up to meet him. Carefully Enjolras laid the other bags containing the other pieces of equipment into the compact space. Again grumbling at Courfeyrac's lack of organisation: knives scattered everywhere, flasks of holy water pilled clumsily on top of each other, not to mention one of the boxes had toppled open, spilling salt everywhere.

Another job for Courfeyrac when they'd returned.

Once finally deciding that it was no use trying to tidy whilst it was pitch black, Enjolras merely slammed the trunk, relishing in the echo it created. Before sliding into the passenger seat, letting his head lean backwards against the top of the seat. With the hunt done, Enjolras wanted nothing more than to get back home.

_To his... his b-boyfriend._

It still seemed so foreign to think of it like that. Not that he didn't love Grantaire, because he certainly did. But he'd spent so long trying to repress those particular thoughts and feelings, that it seemed strange to allow himself to indulge in them without mentally kicking himself.

Sitting up straight and suddenly alert, he pulled out his phone. Tapping in the pass code, he did this so often, that he didn't even need to focus on the screen, instead he let his mind wander to home; les Amis, some of the best hunters in the country, had their main base in almost the centre of the USA, in Northern Kansas, not that far away from the sate border. There was a small handful of buildings grouped together where the the group held residence when they weren't out on hunts. And that was where Grantaire was.

Still no signal on his phone. Enjolras grumbled under his breath slightly, there probably wouldn't be any until they reached one of the main roads again.

Combeferre slipped into the drivers seat, snapping the blond out of his thoughts "Ready to go home?"

Enjolras simply nodded, making a non committal "um" sound, he was too tired to do anything else.

A few minutes went by without either of them talking, Combeferre tapping his hand tunelessly against the steering wheel, Enjolras running his finger feverishly down the side of his phone.

Courfeyrac practically ripped the door off it's hinges in his haste to get inside. A strong smell of mud and blood wafted in with him, and when the blond looked back, even in the dark, he could make out a fair amount of dirt smeared across his friend's face.

"Right, let's hit the road," Courfeyrac said enthusiastically, his legs already stretching across the entire of the two back seats.

Combeferre half heartedly reminded him, that he'd be the one cleaning the mud he'd now smeared across the inside of the car, before turning the ignition and pushing the car into gear.

They zoomed down the dark farm track in silence, aside form the loud grumbles of the car's engine, before they finally hit the smooth tarmac of the main road. Their headlights and the moon the only source of light, revealing only the vaguest shadows of landscape.

Enjolras turned back to his phone waiting for the texts he knew would be waiting to appear. With a small pop, the new message sign popped onto the screen. Unable to keep a small smile from twisting its way onto his lips Enjolras opened it.

 ** _R: Has Apollo succeeded in smiting all evil spirits? ;)_**  
  
His grin slowly increasing, he typed out a reply and sent it, before settling himself against the window. After a few hours Combeferre would wake him up to switch seats, and let him drive the rest of the way. Neither of them would let Courfeyrac drive; they wanted the car to be in one piece by the time they got home.

Letting his thoughts turn sluggish, Enjorlas closed his eyes. Allowing the cool glass to press against his cheek. _At least they'd be home soon._


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enjolras, Combeferre, and Courfeyrac arrive home. And Enjolras is reunited with Grantaire.

  
"Are we there yet?"  
"No," Enjolras practically growled, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. It was almost mid-day, the small road was deserted, as the red car sped towards its destination. Enjolras had taken over driving from Combeferre for about an hour, while Courfeyrac lounged in the backseat, his jacket covering his head blocking out the blinding midsummer sun. Combeferre was staring avidly out of the window, a pair of headphones in his ears, Enjolras knew that his friend wasn't a huge fan of listening to music, it was more of an excuse for not having to deal with Courfeyrac. Not that Enjolras blamed him for it, but it was still irritating that he was the one now responsible for the idiot in the back.

_"En-jol-ras!"_ The dark haired man whined, drawing out each syllable, the way a six year old might do.

Sighing, the blond flicked his eyes from the road to his mirror just for a second, before muttering "Courf, you need to fasten your seatbelt."  
  
The other man started to snigger "Oh come on Enjy, we hunt the baddest sons of bitches there are, and you tell me to 'fasten my seatbelt'! God can't you just loosen up a bit? I mean come on, live a little."

"Courfeyrac," Enjolras said, somehow managing to keep his voice calm. Deep down he really didn't want his friend to get hurt, but that didn't stop him from being the most irritating person on the planet. Granted one of the best hunters there was, but irritating none the less, and he knew exactly how to wind Enjolras up, and if anything that made him angrier, because he was actually stupid enough to let it get to him. The blond sucked a breath between his clenched teeth, incredibly envious of Combeferre, who still sat blissfully unaware of the murder about to take place "Would you please just fasten your seatbelt. What would happen if we crashed? You'd die."

"Oh please," Courfeyrac said lightheartedly from behind Enjolras "We're the only car on this road, as if we're gonna crash" he laughed to himself, shifting himself, so that he was lying across the seats more comfortably.

Feeling slightly ashamed of himself for being immature, Enjolras slammed his foot on the brake. The car lurched to a stop, wheels screeching, resulting in Courfeyrac being catapulted into the back of his seats.

"Oops" Enjolras said innocently, unable to keep a slightly triumphant smile from his face as a string of curse words came from the boy behind him.

"Was that really necessary?" Combeferre sighed, rubbing his shoulder where the belt had bitten into his skin.

"It was," he replied curtly, while their friend detached himself from the floor.

"I think you broke my face," Courfeyrac grumbled, rubbing his soon-to-be bruised cheek "Really not cool."

"But do you see my point?" Enjolras continued, ignoring Courfeyrac's whining "If we crashed you would die, so just put your seatbelt on."

"What are you, my father?" The dark haired man huffed, but he sat up and fastened his seatbelt anyway.  
"Okay," Combeferre said, trying to keep peace, as usual "So how much longer do we have until we get home?"

"I don't know, maybe a couple of hours." Enjolras replied, feeling suddenly tired. He usually felt like this on the way home; when he was tracking something, he'd had inexhaustible energy, the thought that people were in danger of dying, and their lives depended on his concentration kept him constantly alert. Not to mention the thrill of catching and killing monsters, knowing that he'd saved people's lives in doing so. The fatigue only hit him afterwards, once they were speeding towards home.

The three of them fell into a comfortable silence.

That is until Courfeyrac started tapping his hand against his window to a very, very annoying tune. Combeferre couldn't keep the slight grin on his face, as he turned to see Enjolras glaring at the road in front of him.

He tried to ignore it, he honestly did. Keeping his eyes fixed on the constant image of open road ahead of him.

_Tap. Tap. Tap._

Enjolras gritted his teeth as Courfeyrac continued to tap against the door, until he felt himself snap.

"Courfeyrac, stop it!"  
"Stop what?"  
"That!"  
"What?"  
"Tapping at the damn window!"  
"But I'm bored!"  
"Then do something!"  
"I am doing something; I'm tapping the- OW!" Courfeyrac wailed not managing to duck in time to avoid Combeferre throwing his already battered iPod at him.

"That's abuse! You do know that I have a knife in my pocket?" Courfeyrac retorted angrily, rubbing the place when he'd been hit. Yet another bruise to add to his rapidly increasing collection.

"Well I have a gun, and at the moment I'm really tempted to use it," Combeferre threatened half heartedly "Why don't you just listen to my iPod, okay? Then maybe we can make it home without you two killing each other. I don't fancy having to explain to Jehan and Grantaire why their boyfriends are in pieces."

"But you have a terrible taste in music." Courfeyrac pointed out, already scrolling through Combeferre's albums "However, I believe I can make it work." He said, whilst ramming the headphones into his ears and hitting play.

"Finally," Combeferre muttered, when Courfeyrac eventually went quiet. Enjolras' eyes were still fixed on the road ahead of him, watching the line of trees on his left.

"You don't think that the demon was telling the truth when it said that we were as good as dead do you?" The blond said suddenly. There had been a knot of anxiety in his stomach since she'd said those words, and he simply didn't like it.

"Nah, demons are always like that. We are hunters after all, it kind of goes without saying that they want us dead." Combeferre replied calmly, easing some of his friends nerves. Combeferre may not have been hunting for as long as Enjolras or Courfeyrac, but Enjolras had known him the longest, and probably trusted him more than anyone, maybe even more than Grantaire. Not that Enjolras didn't trust Grantaire because he certainly did, but the dark haired man did have a habit of being a little too reckless, and had found himself in a near death situation on more than one occasion because of it. So if Combeferre thought that it meant nothing then Enjnolrad was willing to believe him. So he quickly cleared the doubt from his mind, and urged the car onwards.

* * *

Enjolras sighed in relief, as the little cluster of buildings came into view, outlined against the blue sky, a few fluffy clouds here and there.

He gently increased the pressure on the pedal, willing the car to go faster, speeding towards their house.

The hunters home consisted of a large old fashioned farm house, where most of them slept and spent most of their time. A second smaller house where Marius and Cosette stayed, as well as any other guests they were putting up. A very large garage for the numerous cars the group needed access to. And finally a converted barn, which they used for everything from shooting practise to making new weapons. The group had bought the land several years ago, and had worked tirelessly to make it inhabitable, as well as adding some new additions.

Beneath the barn there was a well hidden storage space, containing every cursed objects, or pieces of black magic that they hadn't been able to destroy. Each item was carefully stored in curse boxes, or within some other kind of magic to keep them separate. Not to mention the room itself had been given every kind of magical protection there was; it would be impossible for anything nonhuman to enter.

In addition to that the group had converted the basement of the main house. In the corner of the darkly lit room was a heavy iron door, leading to their panic room. It had the same kind of protection as the storage space did, but also had enough living space, weapons, and food to last them several months if it was needed. They always liked to be prepared.

With a final snarl form the engine, Enjolras turned the car off, once he'd parked it in front of the main building. The three of them slowly got out of the car, yawning and stretching their tired muscles as they went.

"About time," the three of them looked up to see Jehan standing in the doorway with his usual braid and unusual mixture of clothes. Grinning from ear to ear the poet walked briskly forward before embracing Courfeyrac, and kissing him gently, before taking a step back and surveying the three of them.

"Bad hunt?" He asked sympathetically.  
"Defiantly a long one." Combeferre sighed.  
"Are you hungry?" Jehan asked with a crooked smile.  
"Oh my God, yes. You're and angel, I love you!" Courfeyrac almost shouted, as he took a step towards the house, before Enjolras grabbed his arm.  
"Don't you have something to do first Coirfeyrac?" He asked, enjoying himself perhaps a bit more than he should. Courfeyrac cocked his head to one side, making him look remarkably like Labrador that didn't understand it's owner.

"You need to clean out the car first," Enjolras informed him.  
"But-"  
"You know the rules," Combeferre said sternly, though he was grinning as well.  
"Why-"  
"You where the one who messed it all up," Enjolras reminded him.

Courfeyrac opened his mouth to retort angrily.  
"I'll make you some Coffee for when your done," Jehan cooed, leaning up on his tiptoes to kiss Courfeyrac on the cheek, effectively stopping the brunettes reply, and prompting him to head back to the car, muttering to himself about human rights.

Grinning, Jehan turned back to the others "You look like you've seen better days," it was true, all three of them had a fair amount of blood and dirt on them.

"Yeah, so if it's alright with you, I think I'm gonna go straight up and have a shower," Combeferre said, as the three of them walked through the door. The other two promptly turned left into the kitchen, while Combeferre bounded up the stairs.

Enjolras quickly dropped onto one of the chairs, exhausted.  
"Where's Grantaire," he asked, trying not to sound too needy.  
Jehan chuckled slightly and he moved around the kitchen making his friend a drink "I sent him out to pick up some stuff for dinner, he's been barely able to sit still since you sent him those texts last night."

Enjolras felt a smile creep onto his face. He really had missed Grantiare, and the idea that Grantaire had missed him as well made his stomach flutter slightly, not that he'd ever admit that.

Jehan carefully placed a perfectly made cup of coffee in front of Enjolras "You're an angel," Enjolras muttered, as he took a gulp, not caring that it was still a little too hot.

"I know," the shorter man replied cheekily as he picked up his own mug of coffee and sat down opposite Enjolras.

"So where is everyone?" Enjolras asked, realising that, aside from Combeferre, he couldn't hear anyone else moving around in the house.

"Gone hunting," Jehan replied before taking a gulp of his own drink.

"All of them?" Enjolras asked, astounded.

"Well, no. Marius and Cosette went to go and visit her Dad, he's getting a little paranoid."

"Paranoid?" Enjolras' brow furrowed. He'd met Jean Valjean, and had been impressed by him, which coming from Enjolras was something. The man had been effective and smart, but also seemed kind and loving. If anything he'd appeared to be the most well adjusted Hunter Enjolras had ever met.

"Yeah," Jehan nodded sadly "Apparently there's lines of salt in every doorway, devil traps all over the house. From what I've heard he's convinced that someone's out to get him, but I guess that's what happens when you've been on the job that long. Anyway," Jehan shook his head, as though trying to clear his mind "Bahorel and Feuilly found a Wendingo in Canada, em, Ontario I think, and they only set off a few days ago, so they might be awhile getting back. Oh, and Éponine is hunting a Djinn, somewhere in Idaho."

"Is that safe, for her to do that alone?" Enjolras wondered out loud, remembering his own past experiences with Djinns, needless to say they had not been good. Jehan merely shrugged.

"She was in Idaho anyway, chasing a werewolf, so she just couldn't pass up the opportunity for a new hunt. You know Éponine, she can't sit still for two minutes. Oh and I got a call from Boussuet."

"Oh, how are they? Have they been working any cases lately?" Enjolras asked. Joly, and Boussuet were all former members of Les Amis, but had decided to set up residence in Tennessee when they'd met Musichetta. But they still saw a lot of them. Whenever they were nearby they would stop off and say hello, and they'd do the same whenever they were near to the others house, if there was ever a case that was too big for either of the groups to do alone then they would meet up and give each other a hand.

"Oh, you know haunted house, cursed objects, that kind of thing." Jehan replied, absentmindedly stirring his coffee.

Enjolras opened his mouth to enquire further, when he heard the the front door open and close followed by hurried footsteps. He turned around to see Grantaire walking into the kitchen. His hair was scruffy and wild, as usual and there was a thin layer of stumble on his chin. Grantaire's eyes were just as vivid as Enjolras, but his were a slightly darker shade of blue. Upon seeing him Enjolras rose to his feet, in response Grantaire smiled a shy but playful smile, and Enjolras couldn't help but feel a little hurt.

He both loved and hated that smile.

It meant the world to Enjolras because the look in his eyes was so powerful, so believing. Grantaire looked up to Enjolras the way no one else did or ever had, and the fact that his boyfriend thought so much of him made Enjolras sure that he could do anything. But it also made his heart break a little every time he saw that smile.

He hated it because it made him feel unbelievably guilty. Whenever he went out for a hunt without him, Grantaire would be unable to stop a tiny bit of himself from, thinking that Enjolras wasn't going to come back. It wasn't as if Grantaire thought that Enjolras was the kind of person who'd have an affair with someone else, or hurt him on purpose, but he seemed to be constantly terrified that Enjolras would wake up one day and find him repulsive. Which Enjolras knew he would never do, but no matter how many times he told Grantaire how amazing he was, or how much he loved him, there seemed to be no getting rid of his inferiority complex.

But that never stopped him from trying.

Before Grantaire could open his mouth to greet him, Enjolras had drawn him into a kiss. Trying his hardest to convey just how much Grantaire meant to him, that he was beautiful, the best person he'd ever met, and the most important thing on earth to him. Grantaire stiffened at the touch, but quickly relaxed into it. His hands came to rest at Enjolras' side, as though unsure if he was supposed to keep going or not. If Enjolras' face wasn't otherwise occupied he'd have rolled his eyes, instead he kissed Grantaire harder.  
  
 _You are important, and beautiful and worthy._

A small cough drew their attention away from each other, and back to Jehan who was still sat at the table a slight smirk on his face. Enjolras simply ignored him, turning to face Grantaire once more, lacing his fingers around his, and bringing them up to their faces so he could gently kiss each hand. "I missed you a lot," the blond said affectionately, looking up at Grantaire.

"I'm sure I missed you more," Grantaire replied, staring at Enjolras' face as though transfixed by it.

"Ugh, come on R, shunt up help me unpack, before I vomit," Jehan insisted, miming being sick, as he pulled himself to his feet.

"We are nowhere near as bad as you and Courfeyrac." Grantaire shot back playfully as he sat down at the kitchen table along with Enjolras. There fingers still entwined, both were unwilling to break the contact, as though determined to make up for lost time.


End file.
